


When I See You Again

by meanderingmirth



Category: VIXX
Genre: M/M, Time Travel, technically the rest of VIXX is there too but not prominently
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 13:44:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6807394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meanderingmirth/pseuds/meanderingmirth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hongbin has to remember some of the things he’s forgotten about in the past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When I See You Again

**Author's Note:**

> time travel au inspired by the nostalgia I felt watching [this video](https://twitter.com/hansanhyuks/status/706902998321123328/) of mtv diary Ken
> 
> enjoy!

There is an apocalyptic amount of rain pouring down from the dark sky when Hongbin rushes out of the broadcasting building a quarter to midnight, jacket pulled over his head and the bottoms of his pants getting soaked as he sprints for the cab waiting by the curb.

His foot sinks into a particularly large puddle just before he collapses into the backseat, panting hard and shaking water out of his damp hair. “Fuck,” he curses, looking down at his ruined shoes, sopping jacket and wet backpack.

“Rough night?” the cabbie grunts, watching Hongbin toss his things aside with a groan.

“You could say that,” Hongbin deadpans, shivering when a blast of air conditioning bursts from the vents in the front to battle the condensation raising in the glass. He rattles off the address of his shared apartment and the cabbie makes a gruff noise of understanding before waking the meter and merging back into traffic.

He sighs and sinks into the lumpy backseat, rubbing his face warily. Recording sessions running late had never been a surprise for him, but the wariness he’d felt tonight was on a completely different level. He didn’t know if it was the Thursday evening blues, the sheer amount of work or just overall fatigue plaguing him, but Hongbin’s fairly certain he can collapse in the foyer of the apartment when he gets home and still sleep like a baby through the night.

And then there’s this rain; this heavy, relentless rain that makes him feel a little melancholic.

He jolts a little when the cabbie suddenly turns the radio on, getting a bit of static as he switches between station. He eventually lands on the traffic report, where a man’s voice is informing them that the heavy rains is causing both delays and accidents all over the downtown core. The cabbie clucks his tongue and scratches at the greying stubble on his jaw.

“Looks like you and I are gonna have to tough it out a little longer, sonny,” he says, jerking his chin towards the sea of red brake lights looming before them. Hongbin groans and slumps down in the seat.

“Perfect,” he mumbles, and fishes his phone out of his pocket. He composes two texts, one for Taekwoon, who’s home for once tonight, and the other for Jaehwan, who he suspects might still be at work.

A minute later, he gets a reply from Taekwoon.

_I’ll leave dinner in the fridge for you then._

_thnx. jaewhan isn’t home yet?_

_no. i’m the only one._

Hongbin presses his lips together and returns to his archives, thinking. Wonshik is visiting his parents during one of his rare his weeks off, which was probably just HR threatening to fire him if he didn’t take a break. Both Hakyeon and Sanghyuk are away in the next city, filming separately. That had left Hongbin alone with Taekwoon and Jaehwan for the past few days, though he doesn’t really know who  _is_  home or out most of the times; if he’s in the apartment he’s either eating, showering, or asleep.

He glances briefly at the message in his chat with Jaehwan, which is still unopened. That’s not surprising either, because Jaehwan doesn’t keep his phone on him when he’s in the recording studio, or there’s the possibility he’s crashed somewhere too.

The cabbie has changed the traffic report for another radio station now, which plays some old songs Hongbin thinks he might’ve heard a few years back. Yawning, he wedges his head between his headrest and the one for the middle seat, watching the neon green digits of the dashboard’s clock flicker.

11:58pm.

11:59pm.

Hongbin’s eyelids droop downward as he considers surrenders himself to a nap. While it might not be comfortable, there’s no use in fighting the exhaustion taking over him when he’s going to be here for a while.

Yawning, he shifts a little so his neck isn’t strained, and closes his eyes with a sigh.

The neon digits pulse briefly, and changes to 12:00am.

+

There is a lot of noise in the car when he’s abruptly jolted back to consciousness by an elbow to the side, and Hongbin grunts irritably, turning away from the source of the annoyance, only for his head to bump into a very bony shoulder on his left.

Wait.

His eyes fly open as he straightens up abruptly, nearly smacking his head into the top of the van. Not a car, or a cab, but a van. And sitting with him in the van are the five other members of VIXX, all of whom are looking considerably  _younger_.

No, Hongbin realizes. Not just younger— if the mop of familiar curly hair surrounding his face is anything to go by, this is their  _debut era_  kind of young.

“What the fuck,” he says out loud, and he hears several gasps in the car.

“You can’t swear on camera!” Sanghyuk’s voice sounds on his right, and Hongbin whips around. He nearly faints when he sees a scrawny seventeen year old boy holding up an old camcorder to his face.

“What—  _what_ —” he splutters, clutching at the back of his seat in shock. He can see his own bug-eyed, slack-jawed reflection in the viewfinder of the camcorder that he can now recall is what they used to film their mtv diary episodes on. Oh, god, how long has it been since he’s thought about all those self-recorded clips?

“Good morning,” Wonshik’s voice rumbles from behind him, bright and loud, and Hongbin winces when he feels Wonshik ruffle his hair. The curls tangle around Wonshik’s fingers and fall all over his face. “Didya sleep well?”

“N-no,” Hongbin wheezes out, batting Wonshik’s hands away from him. He can’t help but stare when he spies the pale, ink-less skin of Wonshik’s skinny forearms, which is an incredibly weird sight after watching the collection of designs and words accumulate all over Wonshik’s body as the years progressed. Hongbin distinctly remembers accompanying Wonshik to the tattoo parlour when he went to get several tattoos done—  but none of which exist right now.

“Hey, Binnie,” Wonshik says, snapping his fingers in front of Hongbin’s face, effectively pulling him out of his daze. “Are you okay? You look really out of it.”

“He’s tired,” Hakyeon’s voice sounds from the front of the van, and Hongbin can’t tear his eyes away from their leader either. He’s forgotten how young Hakyeon looked back then too, with his slightly bowl-cut hair and rounder face. He almost doesn’t want to look towards Taekwoon’s direction, and it’s fortunate that their main vocal is still sleeping, headphones in his ears, head resting against the window as he dozes.

He’s still aware of Sanghyuk filming him, and Hongbin really doesn’t know how to react. He should be in a cab, on his way back to the apartment after a rainy day of work, not stuffed into the backseat of a van he hasn’t ridden in for nearly  _nine years_.

“Then film me! Me!”

Hongbin’s certain his breath must’ve stopped in his throat, because it’s Jaehwan’s voice, and the nostalgic punch he feels to his gut is enough to render him absolutely speechless. Slowly, he turns until he’s facing the front again, ignoring Wonshik’s curious looks in his direction, and stares at a cute, baby-faced Jaehwan grinning into the camcorder as Sanghyuk turns it towards him.

“Hi! Hi-hi! What’s up, diary?”

“Ahh, so cute,” Hakyeon says from the front, and a ripple of laughter sounds through the van, and Hongbin’s heart nearly gives out. He can only stare at Jaehwan as the others continue to talk in the van, watching the way Jaehwan props his chin up on the seat and smiles prettily for the camera as Sanghyuk films. He cannot believe this is happening— is he dreaming?

Jaehwan chooses that moment to turn and roll down the window of the van, ushering in a gust of sweet, refreshing summer air that makes Hongbin think of lively nights and open skies, which is a little terrifying in itself because the last thing Hongbin remembers is falling asleep in a taxi that smells a little too much of greasy takeout in the middle of a rainstorm. There was no summer breeze and no younger VIXX members laughing as they watched Jaehwan stick his arm out of the window, making sound effects for himself while pretends to shoot something out of his hands.

“Oh! He’s Peter Parker,” Wonshik laughs, and that’s when Hongbin finally realizes the exact moment he’s somehow come back to— a little while after their debut, they’d gone out to celebrate by watching the new Spiderman movie that had come out at the time. He distantly recalls the trip back to their dorm, which hadn’t exactly involved him sleeping, but had featured their beat up camcorder and Jaehwan acting as the resident mood maker of the team during their time out.

How long had it been since all six of them went and saw a film together?

“You’re being really quiet tonight,” Wonshik comments. “What’s the matter?”

Hongbin turns slowly, unsure how he should elaborate on his current predicament, or even  _if_  he should elaborate at all. He can’t imagine doing that without coming off as slightly deranged.

“Say,” he says, fidgeting with the hem of his baggy t-shirt. Oh, this horrid fashion. “It’s— it’s 2012 this year, right?”

“Yeah?” Wonshik blinks at him. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” Hongbin answers, and he tries not to let his light-headedness get to him. “Don’t mind me.”

“Are you absolutely sure you’re okay?” Wonshik’s brows are furrowing together as he squints at Hongbin. “You look like you’re about to hurl.”

“I’m not,” he says quickly. “Just— just a little carsick. Kind of. N-not really.”

“Uh, okay,” Wonshik replies, doubtful. “Do you want a bag? Hey, Hakyeon—”

“I said I’m  _fine_ ,” Hongbin hisses in a panic, slapping his palm over Wonshik’s mouth. “Don’t worry about it.”

“What are you two doing?” Jaehwan squawks, and Hongbin nearly drops his hand away from Wonshik like he’s been burned.

“Nothing,” he answers, trying to smile normally but only managing an unconvincingly lopsided grimace. “Go back to your Spiderman thing, or... whatever it was you were doing.”

Jaehwan tilts his head at him, and for a moment he just stares at Hongbin in an eerily still fashion. But then he shrugs and whips around to mime more spiderweb shootings out of the open window again, and Hongbin has never been more thankful for twenty-year-old Lee Jaehwan’s practically nonexistent attention span.

He keeps to himself the whole way home, only speaking when spoken to, and when the others begin goofing off with the camera on the balcony, he bolts towards the direction he thinks is one of the bedrooms and hides away in there. It feels so  _strange_  to walk through their old dorm like this, because while he hasn’t thought about this place in a very long time, he can still vaguely remember everything about it: where they keep their shoes, which drawer is his own, and whose pants it is drying on the laundry rack. He even remembers which bedspread is his, laid out on the floor between the wall and Hakyeon’s, and for a moment he just stands there, staring down at the folded mattress and the pillows and blankets piled on top of it.

Outside, he hears Hakyeon, Wonshik, and Sanghyuk laughing as they film with Jaehwan, and inside the bathroom the shower is running while Taekwoon washes up for the night.

Hongbin pinches himself on the arm, very hard, and hisses in pain immediately afterwards. So this wasn’t a dream? Or was he lucid dreaming, so out of it that he can’t differentiate real pain and dream pain? Was that even a thing?

“Oh, we’ve caught a spider!” he hears Hakyeon saying outside, and the balcony door rattling. That stirs up a somewhat familiar memory in the recess of Hongbin’s mind as well, but he’s in the midst of panicking a little right now after seeing his own nineteen year old face in the mirror propped up on the dresser, and couldn’t be bothered to think about it.

“ _How_ ,” he breathes, advancing slowly towards the mirror, prodding and poking at his face. His cheeks felt softer, jaw less defined, but it was still  _him_ , no doubt about it.

The bathroom door opens and Hongbin jumps, whirling around as Taekwoon walks out, short black hair sticking up in tufts all around his face. Hongbin can’t stop the slightly hysterical snort that escapes him; heaven almighty, Taekwoon is practically a fetus.

“What?” Taekwoon asks, frowning at Hongbin’s reaction, and he backtracks quickly, schooling his face into a serious look.

“Nothing,” he says hurriedly. “Uh. Just. Your hair is sticking up.”

Taekwoon glances over at the small vanity mirror sitting on the dresser and drops his towel back over his head.

“Go shower,” he says instead, and Hongbin winces.

“Uh... maybe later,” he mumbles, and Taekwoon gives him a disbelieving look.

“You’re going to smell,” he says, reaching out to jab Hongbin in the stomach, and Hongbin recoils, forcing a weak laugh out of him.

“Tomorrow,” he promises, even though the idea of staying in the year of 2012 for a minute longer is terrifying enough. Taekwoon shakes his head and tosses his towel into one of the laundry hampers before sliding silently out of the bedroom. Before the door closes, he can see Jaehwan bounding across the apartment for the sake of a gag, and the others directing the camcorder to film it.

This is all so  _weird_.

He flounders for a moment before deciding that his best defence against any unwanted questions about his undeniably strange behaviour tonight is to hide it out, so Hongbin digs through his old dresser, throws on what he thinks might’ve been his old sleep clothes, and buries himself under the blanket despite the warm summer night.

The others continue goofing around for a bit longer, at least until their manager tells them to go to bed. Obediently, they all pile into their respective rooms, and Hongbin holds his breath as he listens to Hakyeon and Jaehwan cluster into the bathroom to brush their teeth. Meanwhile, Taekwoon flops down onto the mattress next to Hongbin’s and pokes experimentally at his blanket lump.

“Hongbin?” he asks, and Hongbin forces himself to stay very still, feigning sleep.

“What’s wrong with Hongbinnie?” Hakyeon asks from the doorway, and he envisions Taekwoon shrugging.

“I think Wonshik said he wasn’t feeling well in the car.”

“Huh,” Hakyeon says, and Hongbin can definitely imagine him cocking his hip. “Dummy. He should’ve said something.”

“Well, he’s sleeping now,” Jaehwan says, and something lodges in Hongbin’s throat at the sound of his voice. “Let’s turn off the lights.”

There’s the sound of padding footsteps, and a moment later, everything plunges into darkness.

It’s not until the he’s certain that the others have fallen asleep almost half an hour later that Hongbin dares to crawl out of his blanket lump and kick the sheets to the end of his mattress, relishing in the breath of fresh air.

How on earth could he have forgotten how crappy their air conditioner was back in their first dorm?

He lies flat on his back and stares up at the darkened ceiling, stiff as a board as he listens to the quiet snuffles of Taekwoon sleeping beside him. His anxious thoughts chasing themselves around in circles inside his brain. What if he’s stuck in this dream? Or this past? Or whatever the heck it actually is?

He can’t stay still like this anymore. He needs to think, preferably someplace that’s not in the dark and without a snuffling Hakyeon right beside his ear.

Slowly, he eases himself off the mattress and fumbles around in the dark, searching for the end of the bed. He accidentally prods Hakyeon’s foot and the elder mumble something, almost terrifying Hongbin out of his wits. For a moment he stays perfectly still, waiting to see if he’s woken any of the others up, but no more happens.

Taking a deep breath, Hongbin rises slowly, squinting towards the vague outline of the bathroom door in the distance, and takes a step forwards.

His leg tangles in the blankets he’d kicked to the end of the mattress just as he lifts his foot, effectively throwing him off balance. He barely had time to stifle a desperate yell before he’s falling forwards and smacking his forehead right into the corner of the dresser—

+

The feeling of the car going over a bump snaps Hongbin awake, and for a moment he flounders desperately, completely disorientated. When he steadies himself, the cabbie is staring at him.

“Your stop.”

Hongbin blinks, and then whips around to look out of the window so fast he feels his neck crick.

Indeed, the cab is idling in the roundabout at the front of his apartment block. He’s not in their old dorm anymore, Hakyeon isn’t sleeping beside him, and his hair is no longer the curly monstrosity that grows rampant all over his head. Instead, he’s back in the cab, back in his damp clothing, and the rain is still pouring outside.

“What the hell,” Hongbin breathes, touching the glass. He pinches himself again, hard, and winces. Is this real too?

“Had a funny dream, sonny?” the cabbie asks, eyeing him oddly. “You look really out of it.”

“H-huh?” Hongbin stammers, rubbing at the faint spot of pain in his forehead. He grabs his things and quickly shells out his payment in a daze. “No, no, just... nevermind.”

“Hm,” the cabbie hums, counting the bills as he opens the car door. “Well, have a goodnight.”

“You too,” he replies faintly, and exits the taxi.

The gush of water spilling onto him as he sprints inside his building is a welcome wake-up call, because there’s no way Hongbin could possibly dream up of the level of discomfort he feels sloshing through puddle after puddle in soaked socks. He barely waves at the concierge at the desk before hurrying into the lift and jabbing the button for his floor.

When he finally makes it back into their apartment (their much bigger and cleaner apartment), Hongbin practically throws his shoes off him and dashes down the hall and throws open the door to Taekwoon’s room, immediately accosting the sleeping man.

“Taekwoon,” he hisses, shaking the elder frantically. “Taekwoon. Wake up. Wake up!”

Taekwoon groans and turns over, trying to escape Hongbin’s insistent shaking, but after a moment he lifts his head off the pillows and blinks blearily up at him.

“Hongbin? What’s the matter?”

“What year is it?” Hongbin asks urgently. Taekwoon stares at him. “What year?”

“... it’s 2021?”

“And the day? What’s the day?”

“Thursday... well, Friday now. In March.”

Hongbin reaches over and fumbles to turn on the lamp on Taekwoon’s nightstand, and Taekwoon winces when the light hits him square in the face— a leaner face, framed by a slight fringe of light brown hair that’s showing a bit at the roots, of an undoubtably older man.

“How old are you right now?” he demands, and Taekwoon squints.

“I’m thirty-one?”

Hongbin falls back onto his legs as he slumps onto the ground, clutching his chest with one hand as he ticks off the numbers on the other. “That means... that means I’m twenty-eight. Not nineteen. Oh, thank god,” he wheezes.

Taekwoon is staring at him like he’s grown an extra head.

“Care to explain what you’re suddenly babbling about at—” he glances over at the clock on the nightstand, and frowns. “—12:26 in the morning?”

“Nothing,” Hongbin whispers, dropping his face against the duvet covering Taekwoon’s long legs. “I just had a really weird dream in the cab on the way home, sorry.”

Taekwoon is silent for a moment, but then he yawns, loudly and widely, and pats Hongbin’s head absent-mindedly.

“Maybe you should go back to sleep.”

Hongbin lets out weak wheeze of laughter. “Right, sleep,” he says. “To be honest I don’t think I want any more of it.”

Taekwoon grunts sleepily.

“Turn off the light, Hongbin, and to back to bed.”

“Yes, yes,” he sighs, carefully shutting off the lamp, and within moments, Taekwoon’s filled the room with his snuffling snores again. Hongbin slants the elder a look. Must be nice, being able to just drop off to sleep like that.

He stays there for a few more moments, but then the air conditioning turns on in their room and he quakes when another blast of cool air washes over him and his drenched clothes.

Change first, and then bed, Hongbin thinks to himself as he stumbles out of Taekwoon’s bedroom. And no more weird ass dreams from now on.

+

He searches up their old mtv diary episodes the next morning while eating breakfast, and feels like he’s teleported right back to the situation yesterday night. He digs up their Spiderman episode in particular, and watches with a mixture of awe and fear at their younger selves horsing around. It’s exactly the same as his dream. Hongbin shakes his head and pushes his food around mindlessly. The human brain is so freakily creative sometimes.

“What  _is_  that?” Taekwoon’s voice says from behind him, and Hongbin jumps in his seat, nearly upsetting his cup of tea.

“Christ, Taekwoon, don’t just sneak up on me.”

Taekwoon ignores that and picks up the tablet, eyebrows arched as he watches the youtube clip for a couple of seconds. Then he cringes and sets it back down immediately, colour rising in his cheeks as he shakes his head.

“God, I’d forgotten I had that haircut.”

“Oh,  _you’re_  upset about your hair?” Hongbin says incredulously, pausing the video. “Do you remember the rat’s nest I had?”

Taekwoon smirks at him and ruffles his hair— darker and shorter and significantly more stylish hair. “I didn’t envy you,” he says lightly, and Hongbin rolls his eyes.

“Oh, shut up.”

“Why are you watching those embarrassing old videos anyway?” Taekwoon asks, walking around the table to the cabinets. He grabs his travel mug and transfers a generous amount of coffee from the pot into thermos. “It’s been ages.”

“Yeah,” Hongbin says, looking down at the clip. It’s paused at where they’ve locked Jaehwan outside, and he’s pressing his face against the glass door, eyes wide like a lost puppy. “It has, hasn’t it? I can’t believe we’re still living together.”

Taekwoon shrugs as he takes a sip. “It’s easier to split the rent than owning an apartment or a house each, especially in the downtown core... and we wanted to stay together.”

Hongbin glances around the empty living room and towards the direction of the bedrooms, lips pursed. “Not that that’s been happening lately,” he points out, raising an eyebrow.

“We all have work,” Taekwoon says, snitching a piece of meat from Hongbin’s breakfast as he goes. “And speaking of which, I will be late if I stand here and talk anymore. I’m off.”

“Are you coming back home tonight?” Hongbin asks, watching his friend yank his jacket over his broad frame and jam his feet into ankle-high boots. Taekwoon pauses, thinking.

“I don’t know. If I don’t finish rehearsals today, I might crash at a co-worker’s place for the evening. The forecast is a mess this weekend; it’s supposed to rain all four days without any stoppage, and I really don’t want to travel in that.”

“Fair enough,” Hongbin says, thinking back to his disastrous trip. “Go safely then.”

“Mhm,” Taekwoon nods as he grabs an umbrella. “See you.”

“Yeah,” Hongbin says, watching his friend hoist his bag over his shoulder before exiting the apartment swiftly, work undoubtably on his mind. The door closes with a brisk click, and a moment later he adds to nobody else in particular, “See you too.”

+

He gets into work a little before noon because he doesn’t want to deal with the lunchtime rush, especially in the rain, and waves and cheerfully greets everybody he crosses paths with at the broadcasting station despite the wariness he already feels. The studio employees are rushing about doing last minute set ups, and there is apparently a last-minute change to the script that someone made, so Hongbin hangs back in one of the benches just outside the studio while they run it off. While Chansik runs off to find a coffee machine to fuel his jetlag, Hongbin does his best to unobtrusively take up space as he awkwardly folds his long legs up and hopes nobody trips on him.

Someone knocks something over in the studio, and there’s a string of hushed cursing as the staff hurry to pick everything up.

Unthinkingly, Hongbin drops his head against the wall behind him and closes his eyes, bracing himself for a brisk catnap. It feels like it’ll be a couple more minutes of delay before they air anyway.

+

Somebody is shaking him, and Hongbin doesn’t like it.

“No,” he whines, jerking away. The hands are relentless, and he bats irritably at them. “Off.”

“Oi, Hongbin, I know you’re tired and all, but you gotta get up. We gotta film that backstage segment before going out there.”

“What backstage segment,” Hongbin grumbles, turning over on the uncomfortable back of the plastic seat. “We gotta hand out the scripts before we go on air...”

“What on earth are you talking about?” the hand shakes him again, and Hongbin is dimly aware that it’s  _Hakyeon_  who’s doing this, Hakyeon who’s telling him to wake up and record, but that can’t be, Hakyeon isn’t at the studio. He’s supposed to be filming a whole other city away.

A very horrible thought strikes Hongbin, and his eyes fly open.

“Finally,” Hakyeon says, straightening, and Hongbin stares in horror at the sight of his leader in a grey suit with matching silver-grey hair he hasn’t seen in years.

“What the hell?” he curses, leaping to his feet and spinning around. He nearly collides with a bunch of different props and a whole rack of clothes in their cramped cubicle dressing room, an array of makeup and jewellery strewn all over the table. He also sees some very familiar performance costumes and, if the slight discomfort on his eyeballs is anything to go by, recognizes the feeling of contacts lenses.

He’s not in the broadcasting studio he fell asleep in. In fact, if Hongbin’s gut is correct, he’s not even in the same time period anymore. “Again?” He splutters, clutching at his face. “Freaking  _again_?”

“What are you screaming about?” Hakyeon demands, suddenly popping up and smacking him lightly on the back of the neck. “Don’t be noisy.”

“But this— this—” Hongbin stammers, looking down on himself. He turns his hands over and stares in horror at his black-polished fingernails, and when he touches the corners of his eyes delicately, he feels the streaks of their On & On era’s iconic makeup on his face. Spinning around, he grabs an orange-haired Wonshik by the shoulders, because between the rapper and the leader Wonshik is less likely to probe about every single detail in the face of Hongbin’s freakout. “Wonshik! What year are we in?”

“Huh?” Wonshik stammers, confused. “It’s 2013?”

“No!” Hongbin cries. “No!”

“But it is,” Wonshik protests, looking rather alarmed. Hongbin groans and releases his friend, clutching at his product-laden hair.

“God,” he moans. "Why is this happening?”

“What is wrong with you?” Hakyeon asks, catching his wrist. “Why are you suddenly yelling like this?”

“Taekwoon did say there was something funny in the chicken,” Sanghyuk says, watching Hongbin with interest, and Hongbin makes a face back. To his surprise, Sanghyuk does a double-take at stares at him strangely, and Hongbin has to quickly remind himself that their relationship dynamics back in the day were very different than the ones he and the future Sanghyuk were used to.

“Are you not feeling well?” Hakyeon asks, immediately feeling Hongbin’s forehead for a temperature. “When did this start?”

“I’m fine,” Hongbin mumbles, squirming away from Hakyeon’s inquisitive gaze, because if there’s one thing that is apparently timeless, it’s Hakyeon’s freakily intuitive nature when one of them is off their game. Fortunately, before Hakyeon could wrangle his ailment out of him (not that their ever-dependable leader could do anything about what is essentially  _time travel_ ), one of their managers calls them over to the bored looking camera operator waiting to film them.

Memories he’d thought he’d forgotten slams into Hongbin faster than Taekwoon taking Hakyeon down when the oldest tries to sneak snacks in unnoticed. This is the pocky game they played together, once upon a time, and Hongbin is already sweating when he remembers what had transpired the first time around.

Oh, yes, he remembers this very vividly.

He stumbles behind them, dazed and feeling horribly out of place, and gets jostled into place. That’s when he looks off to the side and sees Jaehwan talking with Hakyeon, and Hongbin is suddenly very aware of his breath being stolen away.

Wonshik and Sanghyuk do a casual introduction while Hongbin does his best to keep his jaw from dropping at the sight of Jaehwan in full makeup, with his dark hair styled up and brilliant golden contacts, framed by flecks of matching gold against black streaks at the corner of his eyes. They’re undoubtably older than their debut days, and Hongbin is surprised to see the change already. They’re still rookies, yes, but the younger versions of his groupmates are already holding themselves differently and slowing forming their sense of variety. Jaehwan grins as he listens, head cocked to one side, black-polished nails clasped in front of him. Have his shoulders always looked so broad, even back then?

But there’s not time left to think about it; one of the staff members comes forth and hands him the chocolate stick, drawing him back to the present, and Hongbin stares down at it like it’s diseased. He looks up, and sees a shifty-eyed Taekwoon standing beside him, looking as pensive about the whole game as he felt about it past and present. Sighing, Hongbin holds it up for Taekwoon to bite down on as the camera zooms in on them— and he remembers how terrified he used to be of Taekwoon, how awkward the two of them were in variety shows. And it’s funny how the two of them had somehow managed to bond over that in the future; Taekwon is certainly over his shy, avoid-the-camera-at-all-costs phase of his life by now, but it’s so disconcerting (and possibly a little endearing) to experience it all over again.

Hongbin honestly takes pity on the poor guy, because Taekwoon looks like he’s about to pass out with nerves at any second. And he has no desire to relive this memory any longer than he needs to, Hongbin thinks with grim determination. He feels like he’s gearing up for some impossible challenge, but he’s technically a twenty-eight year old man right now. And after all the variety programs he’s been through over the years, the pocky game is practically  _child’s play_.

So when the others shout for them to start, Hongbin shoves his face as close to Taekwoon’s as possible, nearly startling the other back. But before he could do so, Hongbin grabs his shoulders, chomps down on the chocolate stick and savagely whips his head off to the side, breaking his piece off and leaving a stunned Taekwoon standing with the littlest bit of chocolate stick dangling from his slack mouth, the game effectively over in less than a second.

Hongbin straightens, satisfied, and when he looks back the others are staring at him like he’s just declared Park Hyoshin as his sworn enemy.

“What,” he says defensively, but Hakyeon’s recovered by now, and he yells for Sanghyuk to measure the tiny bit of chocolate stick left while Hongbin chews on the part he’s bitten off.

He sags against the wall when the attention finally shifts off of him and onto Wonshik and Sanghyuk, who’s making a great deal of noise while they try to eat, and Hongbin can’t help but grin a little when he sees their antics. It’s been a while since he’s seen Wonshik and Sanghyuk acting so silly together for the sake of a gag, and something in his heart aches a little.

But it’s when Jaehwan and Hakyeon face off with the pocky hanging from Hakyeon’s lips that a flash of hot jealously suddenly sears through Hongbin, almost shocking him. He watches helplessly as his boyfriend— or rather, future boyfriend— catches hold of the stick in his mouth and leans in as Hakyeon places his hands on Jaehwan’s shoulders. Mortification floods his stomach when he realizes he’s feeling envious over  _Hakyeon_  of all people, back in a time period where he and Jaehwan hadn’t even started dating yet, all because his future self can’t take his eyes off the way Jaehwan’s eyes close in concentration, or the way he and Hakyeon’s noses bump together as they chew. The petty voice in the back of his mind whines that he hasn’t been so close to Jaehwan since... well, since forever, really, ever since they got so busy with work in the future.

How long has it been since he’s kissed his own lover?

Hongbin feels his mood plummet a little, even as the two winners start celebrating with their huge slab of chocolate.

“I’ll be back,” he mumbles to Taekwoon, who’s still looking a little dazed, and nods absent-mindedly as Hongbin as he slips away unnoticed.

He disappears into the bathroom at the end of the hall and paces around through it. He shouldn’t have stayed. He should be trying to find a way back to the future, again. His brain is spinning a mile a minute; last time he was stuck in the past, he’d tripped in the dark and bashed his head into the corner of a dresser to come back. Was that what he needed to do? Select the closest solid object and repeatedly bang his head against it? And what if that didn’t work? Hongbin doesn’t want to think about just how weird he is going to look whacking his head around like a possessed man.

There’s a creak as the door of the bathroom starts to open, and Hongbin makes a dash over to the sink, shoving his hands under the faucet as he pretends to scrub. A man walks in and plods off to grab some paper towels from the dispense. Hongbin swallows and keeps his gaze lowered, tugging the metal rings from his fingers as he wets his hands beneath the stream of water.

He feels small all of a sudden, so out of place despite the fact that he  _has_  experienced this before; he’s already lived this portion of his life, so why is everything so different despite really being the same? What is the point of him going back to when VIXX first began?

The man in the restroom finally wipes his hands off, tosses the wad of paper towel into the bin, and exists the bathroom. Hongbin watches him go in the mirror and sighs with relief once the door swings shut, hands trembling ever so slightly. Predictably, one of the rings slips from his wet, shaky hands and clatters to the floor.

“Crap,” he groans, ducking to pick up his ring. He makes to stand, still thinking about how to get home (and his mind momentarily flashes to Jaehwan, because there are instances where Jaehwan has become the equivalent of home in his future life and there’s something just comforting thinking about him), and he doesn’t quite move far enough away from the bottom of the sink once he’s retreived his ring. Hongbin straightens, cracks the top of his head smartly against the cold ceramic, and—

+

He is falling off the bench.

With a rather desperate bit of windmilling of his own arms, Hongbin barely manages to steady himself before he falls right off his own seat with a terrified yelp, landing smack on his butt. 

The noise around him seems to still for a moment before there’s people rushing over to him, the familiar faces of the radio staff surrounding him as they ask if he’s alright and help him to his feet. Hongbin staggers upright, his gaze darting all over the room like a deer caught in the headlights.

He’s in the radio station. He’s back to the future.

“Are you alright?” the writer asks anxiously. She hands him the new script when he nods, taking a moment to gather himself.

“Yeah, yeah... I just lost my balance,” he says sheepishly, scratching at the sore spot at the top of his head.

“As long as you’re okay,” the writer nods, hovering over him. “Let’s go in and get set up now, we’re going on air soon.”

Hongbin swallows and nods, trailing after the staff as they open the door to the recording room.

He catches sight of the grey, overcast skies and the rain pattering lightly against the window before he takes his seat, and he couldn’t help but think of the other members going about their daily jobs.

What were they all doing now, in this gloomy weather?

+

He trudges back into the apartment at one in the morning, shaking water droplets from his hair and shoving his soggy umbrella back into the stand. The apartment is dark and a little cold, with no light on other than the small night lights lining the hall and the pale, lonely white glow of the fluorescent lights set under the kitchen cabinets. Curious, Hongbin toes off his shoes and peers inside, half-expecting someone to actually be in the kitchen.

But nothing’s been moved since the morning except for some takeout left on the dinner table with a pink sticky note stuck to one of the boxes.  _Help yourselves_  is scrawled across it in Sanghyuk’s slanted writing, and Hongbin immediately walks out into the hallway towards the bedrooms. The door to Sanghyuk’s room is closed, but when he quietly pushes it open, he can barely make out the lumpy form of the youngest member curled up on the bed, soft snores matching the slow rise and fall of the blanket mound. Biting his lip, Hongbin retreats and closes the door.

A part of him wonders why Sanghyuk didn’t send a group message saying he’s come home, especially since he’s been busy filming like Hakyeon and it’s been a while since they’ve seen each other. But another part of him knows that Sanghyuk probably crashed the second he got back to the apartment after leaving food for whoever had time to come back home.

He’s suddenly aware of how tired he feels too, an uncomfortable stiffness in his neck and a weight on his back. He looks around him, in the silent apartment. He’d never realized that all those nights spent by himself curled up in front of the television with a small plate of dinner on his lap or wandering around a near-empty flat by himself could feel so unbearably lonesome.

And sometimes, the apartment is so still it’s hard to believe six people are living in here at all.

+

He gets a text from Wonshik in the afternoon the next day, asking him if he could go onto the laptop he left at the apartment and send him a file he’d forgotten to add to his hard drive. Hongbin snorts when he receives the message while he’s on his way to another broadcasting station; it’s so typical of Wonshik to try and sneak in work while he’s on his supposed “vacation”. He has half a mind to send Wonshik’s sister a text, telling her to make her older brother drop his job and proberly enjoy his time off, but he isn’t that mean. When he makes it home later that day, he can see the remnants of when Taekwoon and Jaehwan probably dropped by the apartment earlier on in the day, presumably to grab something before going out again. He can see Jaehwan’s dirty cup sitting on the counter, and shakes his head, a mixture of exasperation and fondness at his boyfriend’s carelessness. But when Hongbin goes to put it in the sink, he startles when his fingers touch the mug.

The ceramic is still warm, and Jaehwan had probably just left, but they’d somehow missed each other. Again.

Trying to ignore the painful pang of disappointment sinking in his stomach, he dutifully walks into Wonshik’s room and digs up the laptop from beneath a stack of folders and staff paper with half-finished lines and vague ideas scrawled all over it. He finds the file Wonshik wanted him to send with ease and fires off a text to let the other know once it’s out there.

_Thanks a bunch Hongbin!!! I owe u one_

_No problem. Quit trying to secretly work while ur on break tho or I’ll tell on you_

_Mean :(_

Hongbin laughs to himself as he moves the cursor over to the shut down option, about to turn Wonshik’s laptop off, but the name of another folder catches his eye before he could.

**_Eternity 2.0 AKA time travel theories and stuff_ **

A sudden burst of curiosity floods him, and Hongbin grabs his phone again.

_Hey what’s that folder with the time travel supposed to be?_

_The what?_  Wonshik texts back, and Hongbin huffs.

_You called it eternity 2.0 or something_

_Ohhhh that; it’s not actually eternity, but i found some pretty cool theories online and saved it in case it might come handy in the future_

Hongbin chews his lip and stares at the folder. Oh, Wonshik had no idea.

_Mind if I take a look?_

_Sure, go ahead, it’s just stuff i saved from the internet_

He doesn’t waste any time opening up the folder, which only consists of a word document full of randomly-sized text, most likely copied and pasted directly from the web. He skims over a lot of references from popular culture and a few literary references, but it’s not until he reaches the last few paragraphs that he notices a small bullet point.

_> >Often, protagonists of time travel literature experience the repeated past and are given the chance to learn something from each successive repetition of the time period. It is usually followed with the aim to fix a problem in the future (intentionally or not) and can result in a feeling of catharsis at the end._

His eyes move over the paragraph a few more times, mouth moving silently along with the words.

“Catharsis,” he muses aloud, and sits back in the chair, hands falling onto his lap.

Outside, the rain continues to patter on the window— somehow like a light reminder.

+

There’s a live midnight talk show he has to MC for, which aside from enduring more of this sad drizzle that’s been misting over the whole city for some time now, means he won’t be home till it’s late again.

He’s never felt shittier turning down Sanghyuk’s mass group text earlier in the evening asking if anybody was available to grab a quick dinner, especially since Taekwoon’s and Jaehwan’s replies above his echoes the same sentiment.

_Taekwoon: I’m sorry, I’m filming a segment overnight._

_Jaehwan: sameee :(( sorry Hyukkie!! I’ll make it up to you!!_

“Hongbin?”

He jerks his head up, momentarily startled by the PD standing nearby, waiting for him. The other hosts were already on stage, making last minute adjustments while a rookie group fidgets nervously beside a solo artists, doing their best to make conversation despite their obvious anxiousness over making a good first impression. He can’t help but smile to himself; he remembers that feeling quite well despite the years of working in the entertainment industry.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, quickly tucking his phone back inside his jacket as he hurries on set.

The lights flash, cameras turn, and he pulls his lips upwards into the winning smile he’s spent the last nine years perfecting.

There’s no trace of that smile left on his face when he stumbles back into the apartment far too late into the night, feeling heavy and drunk with tiredness. There’s lines of fatigue on his face that become surprisingly prominent as he washes the last of his makeup off. The corners of his mouth ache and he rubs at his cheeks absentmindedly shuffles through the quiet flat, glancing up and down the halls to see if anybody’s home. Taekwoon might be. Sanghyuk probably is, but he’s too tired to check.

“That’s the problem, isn’t it?” Hongbin says aloud to himself as he bumps his knees against the side of his bed. He dregs the blankets back and stares blandly at it, fighting back the derisive snort that’s sitting somewhere in the back of his throat. They’re all too tired to try anymore.

Groaning, he flops face first onto the bed, mushing his nose into his pillow as he shoves his feet beneath the blanket. The night is cool, but he doesn’t want to tuck himself in. Normally, he’d curl up into a cocoon for comfort, or hug a pillow, but neither of those things feel like they’ll make anything better tonight.

Under the relentless sound of the rainfall outside, he thinks he might dream of soft kisses to his dimples, and possibly Jaehwan’s voice in his ear, soothing him back into a wary slumber.

+

It’s the sound of Wonshik’s and Hakyeon’s combined snoring that wakes him this time, and hell, they must’ve had a really long night if  _Hakyeon_  is snoring in his sleep too.

Sighing, he pushes himself up and fumbles around him, already resigned to the fact that he is most likely back in the past again. And sure enough, he can feel the rough, knit-blanket under his hands as he moves his legs off the couch he’d fallen asleep on. The living room is dark, but he can make out Wonshik and Hakyeon sleeping on the mattress pulled out in front of the television, and Sanghyuk has managed to squash himself into the armchair by the window, another blanket pulled up to his shoulders. To his surprise, he can see snow falling outside, drifting silently over the city lights and blanketing over everything still.

It’s winter.

A clatter somewhere in the vicinity of the room over finally catches his attention; Hongbin drags his eyes away from the mesmerizing fall of snow and sneak off the couch. He drapes the blanket over Hakyeon and Wonshik as he goes, curious. The hallway is dark, but the bathroom light under the crack in the doorway, and he hears the shower going. On the other end, in the kitchen, there’s only a single light on, and someone is humming.

He shakes his bangs back and move silently towards the kitchen, heart lodged in his throat, and he’s not surprised to see Jaehwan trying to fix a cup of tea by himself in the semi-darkness.

“Hey,” he says, softly so the other doesn’t startle. “What are you doing up?”

“Oh, Hongbinnie,” Jaehwan jumps, then grins sheepishly. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“Nah,” Hongbin shrugs, wandering over to the counter. “I think I’m still dreaming right now, anyway.”

“What? Are you sleepwalking?” Jaehwan jokes, elbowing him, and Hongbin laughs, unable to keep the sardonic sound at bay.

“You have no idea,” he mumbles to himself, and Jaehwan casts him another look before breaking out into a fond grin.

“Aw, look at you,” he says cheerfully, ruffling Hongbin’s hair. “Did the excitement of our first win finally wear you out?”

“You make me sound like a kid that ran around too much and then crashed,” Hongbin pretends to complain, but his heart is pounding in his chest now. He knows this night. He remembers what happened after they won their first award.

Jaehwan’s smile is warm when he moves to pat Hongbin on the cheek, words on the tip of his tongue, but Hongbin turns and closes his eyes, carefully nuzzling into Jaehwan’s palm, and he can practically hear the syllables fade away from the other at the motion. For a moment, they simply stand, so close to each other yet still a distance apart, and Hongbin doesn’t dare open his eyes lest the fragile connection between them breaks.

“You know, I’ve been grateful for a lot of things,” Jaehwan finally says, after a long moment of silence, and his voice sounds brittle, like he’s about to cry. “But I think, after all this time, finally reaching this stage together with you and the others is one of the few things I’ll never be able to forget.”

“Likewise,” Hongbin breathes, and he bites his lip, still leaning against Jaehwan’s palm. “Sometimes, I wonder what I’ll be doing if I hadn’t heard you sing at the school that one day, long before we debuted.”

He hears Jaehwan’s quick little inhale, but ploughs relentlessly on. He’s nearly lightheaded with nerves even though he knows he’s been through this, and he knows how it will end, for god’s sake; yet, it’s Jaehwan who still makes him feel like he’s trying to admit his puppy crush for the first time all over again— quite literally.

“I wonder,” he dares to say, and fights not to let his words jumble up as he pours as much meaning as he could behind it. “I wonder where I’d be if I didn’t look towards you for so long.”

Jaehwan’s fingers are trembling against his cheek. “Hongbin,” he says, voice unnaturally serious. “Hongbin, open your eyes.”

He does, and the next thing he sees is Jaehwan surging forwards. Hands fall onto his shoulders as their lips meet, and Hongbin nearly sobs at the feelings that rush up inside of him. He wraps his arms around Jaehwan’s waist and pulls him closer, hugging the elder tightly. They step backwards and bump into the sink, but they’re still kissing, almost hungrily so, and Hongbin almost doesn’t want to admit that he’s living the moment too vicariously, using his younger self to experience something he hadn’t realized he’d already lost in the future.

They stumble out of the kitchen and down the hall quickly towards one of the rooms, possibly Jaehwan’s, but Hongbin couldn’t care less. He shuts the door with a brief nudge of his foot once they step over the threshold and angles his head so he could kiss Jaehwan deeper. He’s hanging on like a man drowning in air, desperate to live despite being in a situation that is arguably one of the high points of his life, and squeezes Jaehwan tighter like the latter might vanish in a dream.

In turn, Jaehwan’s hands clutch at the front of his sweater, and his mouth is soft against Hongbin’s despite their frantic kiss. Hongbin moans quietly, palms cupping Jaehwan’s face when he moves his hands up. He’s stunned; both by how he can feel their emotions practically spill out of them and by the fact that somehow, seven years into the future, he’d forgotten how to cherish the warmth and love Jaehwan had shown him from the very start.

They tumble into the dark dorm, forgoing the lights, and Hongbin flushes when he remembers exactly how their winning night went after they’d publicly celebrated their win. The way Jaehwan’s hands wander down his sides and the feeling of their bodies pressing together invokes the phantom memories from future Hongbin’s mind, and he’s never been more desperate to find some way to sear this moment into his brain, to never let himself forget or let Jaehwan go.

“Jaehwan,” he implores between kisses, gripping the elder’s hands tightly with his own. Jaehwan sighs fondly and brushes his lips against Hongbin’s again, the softness of the motion nearly derailing his train of thought. No, he can’t get distracted now, he has to let Jaehwan know. “Jaewhan, please, I lov—”

+

He wakes very suddenly, almost like he’d been catapulted back into reality. Hongbin jerks and sits upright on his bed, sweating and clutching at the blankets like it’s his lifeline. He palms still feel the echoes of warm hands in his own as he looks around his surroundings frantically, even though he already knows what’s happened.

He’s back in the present.

The rain has reduced itself to a small drizzle outside, but the sky is still grey and depressingly cloudy. All the air rushes out of Hongbin as he falls back onto the mattress, staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom while his brain tries to catch up with his racing thoughts. He lifts his head a little, and looks around him.

He sees the empty space beside him on his bed. His coat is hanging on the hook behind the door. The clock on his nightstand blinks 8:59am.

There is no Jaehwan.

Hongbin trembles, rolling over onto his side until his whole world tilts, fingers clutching at his hair.

His heart caving with an unbearable sort of longing as he curls in on himself, shaking, and finally begins to cry.

+

 _Are you busy tonight?_  is the first thing he texts Jaehwan when he comes out of a warm, refreshing shower later that morning, mostly to soothe his jangling nerves and emotionally drained heart. It takes a minute, but Jaehwan eventually texts back when Hongbin is in the middle of making stew.

_I don’t think so, rehearsal’s on its last leg so it’s about to wrap up_

His heart patters with anticipation when he shoots his next message:  _Come home tonight? Let’s eat dinner together_.

It takes Jaehwan longer to respond this time, and for some reason, that makes Hongbin anxious. He stares unblinkingly at the screen for another couple of minutes or so before setting the spoon down, and firing off another message just as Jaehwan finally responds, which results in clashing responses.

_Sure, I’ll catch the last train home_

_I miss you_

There’s a pause, during which Hongbin feels his face heat up in a spectacular fashion over his own impatience, but a second later his phone pings as an image attachment pops up in their conversation.

It’s a picture of Jaehwan, who’s sitting a bright dressing room, half-dressed in his theatre costume with about four hands trying to style his hair at the same time, winking at him. It’s sort of incredible how a twenty-nine-year old man can actually manage to still look so damn cute.

_I miss you too, Binnie. I’ll see you tonight._

Hongbin can’t help the smile that crosses over his own face as he shuts his phone off and sets it down onto the table.

That’s good enough for now.

+

He goes shopping after wrapping up at the studio in the evening, doing his best to pick out ingredients for dishes he knows Jaehwan likes best. When he arrives home, he’s surprised to run into Taekwoon, who’s trying to shove himself through a narrow gap in the doorway while carrying an armful of stuff, most of it damp from the unending rain that has been, as the forecast warned, plaguing them for days.

“You’re home,” Hongbin says, automatically grabbing a large bag out from Taekwoon’s arm, and the elder nods his thanks.

“I’m not staying long,” he admits. “I have to shower and go out for a dinner, but I’ll be back later tonight.”

“Alright,” Hongbin nods, kicking his shoes off his feet as he follows Taekwoon into the apartment. “Jaehwan’s coming home for dinner tonight too, do you want us to wait for you?”

“Jaehwan’s home tonight?” Taekwoon repeats, momentarily surprised, but he recovers quickly. “You can if you guys want; but if you’re tired, go sleep early. Hakyeon actually texted me earlier, he has a break and he wants to come back to rest. We can go grab a meal together tomorrow of the day after, even if it’s just the four of us right now.”

“Yeah, for sure,” Hongbin nods, bobbing his head excitedly as Taekwoon deposits his stuff on the kitchen table alongside Hongbin’s shopping. “That sounds great.”

Taekwoon looks up from where he’s taking a sip of what is probably leftover coffee from the travel mug he usually brings with him. A small smile quirks his lips as he gives Hongbin’s head a teasing nudge.

“You’re excited,” he says, and Hongbin elbows him back.

“It’s been so long since we’ve all met up together,” he says. “I’m going to message Wonshik and Sanghyuk too, and see if they’re free this upcoming week as well.”

“Sounds good,” Taekwoon nods. “I’ve got to go, but keep me posted.”

“Sure,” Hongbin nods, and Taekwoon sweeps off towards his bedroom, hastily tugging his jacket and sweater off as he goes. Hongbin turns and hefts his groceries onto the counter, doing a mental count of the ingredients he’s got, but one of the plastic bags swings a little too far and knocks Taekwoon’s travel mug right off the table, sending it to the floor with a clatter.

“Oh, fuck,” he cusses as Taekwoon’s mug rolls along the floor and out of the kitchen, leaving a long trail of cold coffee leaking out of the puddle on the ground before it bumps into the opposite wall and comes to a halt. Huffing a breath, Hongbin drops the bags and quickly side-steps the liquid to pick up the mug, inspecting it for any bumps or dents that weren’t already there before its unfortunate fall. When it doesn’t look like there’s anything on it that might upset Taekwoon, he plonks the mug back down on toe kitchen table and rushes over to the counter.

He’s in the middle of unravelling a whole paper towel roll (the super absorbent kind Wonshik likes buying for some reason) when there’s a faint jingling of keys outside as somebody steps up to their apartment before the front door opens and closes and a voice calls out, “Hongbin? Are you there?”

His heart leaps into his throat at the sound of a very familiar person.

“Jaehwan?” he shouts excitedly, dashing out of the kitchen towards the foyer. He catches sight of his boyfriend toeing off his shoes in the doorway, hair mussed from the rain and round spectacles dotted with raindrops. He looks tired, and the narrow cut of the suit he’s wearing only serves to remind Hongbin of how thin Jaehwan’s gotten recently, and how often he’s away for work and not taking care of himself.

He opens his mouth, words (of welcome? or endearment?) on the tip of his tongue, but before Hongbin could get single syllable out, his right foot lands in the puddle of coffee and slips across the hardwood floor.

And in that moment, Hongbin’s aware of several things narrowing down on him: the sense of his balance flying out the window, his arms spreading outwards in an instinctive reaction to regain his footing, and Jaehwan’s expression of shock as he watches Hongbin fall.

His boyfriend seems to dash towards him in slow motion, his movements impeded by the half-undone shoe still stuck on his foot, tripping him up as he struggles to rush forward, and his hand is out, extending towards Hongbin.

Their fingers brush, precariously close, but Hongbin’s hand slides right out of Jaehwan’s grasp as working gravity wraps him in his embrace and brings him straight onto the ground.

He feels the back of his head slam against the floor, hard, and everything instantly goes black.

+

There are murmurs of voice around him, a cluster of sounds and shifting movements, and Hongbin wants to turn away from it. He’s tired, there’s a ghost of an ache in the back of his head, and he really wants to sleep for another minute.

But the whispering grows more insistent, and it’s starting to sound like that wasp infestation they had at their old apartment once, and the thought of that is enough to make him open his eyes and push his head off his pillow, blinking in confusion at dimly lit bedroom.

There’s a terrifyingly loud  _POP!_  and Hongbin shrieks, jolting upright in his sheets as someone flicks the light on and confetti explodes all around him, flakes of gold and silver and red fluttering around him and onto the blanket that he’d apparently fallen asleep on without pulling them back.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” five voices chorus, and there’s a blur as Jaehwan dashes forwards and tackles him back onto the bed, kissing him happily on the cheek as Wonshik and Sanghyuk pile on top of him as well.

“CAKE HIM!” Sanghyuk bellows, and Hongbin barely has time to gargle out a faint protest before a handful of frosting is smeared on to his nose and cheeks, cold and smelling sugary sweet. He splutters, kicking his feet.

“Guys— guys— what are you doing?!”

“Gosh, he really is getting old,” Hakyeon laughs as Taekwoon hovers by his side, happily licking frosting off his fingertips. “It’s your own fault for letting your guard down and falling asleep in your room!”

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you,” Jaehwan sings, his honey-like voice crooning beautifully beside his ear. “Happy birthday my darling Hongbinnie, happy birthday to you!”

The song is accompanied by a smacking kiss to his cheek, which is followed by more yelling and shouts of, “No blatant PDA allowed!” Hongbin can feel his eyes widening as he touches his cheek where Jaehwan’s lips have just touched, almost awed.

“Y-you guys didn’t have to,” he manages to say, unconciously fumbling for Jaehwan’s hand. His boyfriend catches hold and gives him a little squeeze, gently anchoring him.

“Don’t be dumb,” Wonshik protests, slapping him on the leg. “I know we’ve all been crazy busy lately and haven’t been at home, but we’re still gonna celebrate your twenty-third birthday, you know.”

“...ah,” Hongbin says, because there’s a lump forming in his throat. He knows that the real twenty-three year old Hongbin would’ve just laughed and playfully called Wonshik cheesy, but there’s something about those words that just tugs at his heart, drawing a sense of loneliness up to the surface. He hadn’t even realized how much he’d missed all of his friends until this instance.

(But maybe he did know though— and he was just too busy like the rest of them to properly realize it.)

He allows the others to finally drag him off the bed and tug him into the living area of the third apartment they’d ever moved into; they’d only just properly settled in because Hongbin can still see the moving boxes shoved into a corner, various belongings from various members still strewn around the place. There’s a humble little collection of gifts on the coffee table, and when Hakyeon sets the slightly mushed-up cake down onto, he can see the remains of ‘Happy Birthday Kong!’ written across the care in pretty blue icing. He quickly lowers his gaze, rubbing discreetly at his eyes before Wonshik catches his attention again, asking him if he wanted cake or his presents first.

And he selfishly relishes in this little gathering, soaking up the feeling of being able to goof off with the boys again, to play fight and collapse against each other and laugh together.

It’s not until later that night, after he’s moved the presents he’s technically already gotten before back into is room that Jaehwan slips in after him, grinning at Hongbin as he shuts the door lightly behind him.

“Oh? What’s this?” Hongbin jokes, grinning when Jaehwan sidles up to him. He reaches up and takes Hongbin’s face in his hands, giving him a soft kiss.

“Sit down,” Jaehwan tells him, giving Hongbin a little push towards the bed. “I have one more gift for you.”

“You didn’t have to,” he protests again, but there’s a curiosity there, because he doesn’t quite remember this. He pushes the covers aside and sits on the edge of the mattress while Jaehwan opens his closet and fumbles through it. A moment later, he emerges with one of their old guitars and a grin on his face. He hurries over and crawls up to where Hongbin’s watching with wide eyes, legs crossing as he positions the guitar on his lap.

“It’s nothing special,” Jaehwan says sheepishly, brushing his fingers experimentally over the strings. The guitar thrums cheerfully, happy sounds already being coaxed out by his naturally bright boyfriend, and Hongbin swallows. He latches onto a pillow and hugs it in front of him, tucking his chin into the fluffy side.

“I’ll love it no matter what,” he promises, and Jaehwan chuckles, ducking his head to hide a little smile.

“Then I’ll impress you,” he answers boldly, and begins to play.

The moment Hongbin picks up on the first few notes of the song, the recognition that slams into him is so suddenly it feels like he’s just gotten the wind knocked out of him. It was as though a fog had suddenly lifted, and the memory of Jaehwan showing him a song he’d composed for Hongbin’s birthday floods his mind.

When Jaehwan opens his mouth and begins to sing, Hongbin doesn’t even try to stop the tears from falling.

Jaehwan is so,  _so_  beautiful, and he knows with all his heart he’ll never let them drift apart in the future again.

When the song finishes on a quavering note, the side of the pillow is damp with Hongbin’s silent tears. Jaehwan doesn’t say anything as he gently sets the guitar beside the nightstand before he places his hands on Hongbin’s shoulders, easing him down onto the mattress. They automatically curl around each other, and Hongbin almost sobs anew when he feels Jaehwan kiss his forehead, on his eyelids, and the top of his nose. The gestures are so sweet and so familiar, and he misses it all so much.

“Thank you, Jaehwan,” Hongbin whispers, voice quavering a the end.. He manages a watery smile as he lays his head down on the pillow beside his boyfriend, and feels Jaehwan chuckling as he presses his lips against Hongbin’s damp cheek.

“It’s just a song, silly,” he teases, fond. “Does this mean you like it?”

Hongbin stifles a quick a yawn and blinks sleepily up at Jaehwan, who’s watching him with an infinite amount of softness in his gaze.

“ _Like_  it?” he murmurs. “Jaehwan, I adore it. And I know that the me five years into the future will for sure realize how much I love this song and cry all over it again.”

Jaehwan’s eyebrows arch in surprise, but he indulges in Hongbin’s nonsense talk anyway. “That’s an interesting prediction,” he chuckles, nudging his nose against Hongbin’s. “And in this future of yours, am I still gonna be there to get sentimental about it with you?”

Hongbin looks at him, heart skipping a beat, and reaches out to touch Jaehwan’s cheek.

“Yes,” he promises, even as his eyes begin to drift close of their own accord. “I promise.”

“That’s good,” he hears Jaehwan say, somewhere far off and in the distance. “I’m glad, Hongbinnie. I’m so glad...”

+

The bed he’s sleeping on is a little stiff, but not wholly uncomfortable.

Groaning, Hongbin shifts to the side, hoping to find a more comfortable spot, but the sudden stab of pain in his cranium makes him cry out softly instead. Suddenly, there’s a flurry of noise around him and somebody whisper-shouts, “He’s awake! He’s awake!”

Then, he feels hands cupping his cheeks with the utmost care and a familiar voice asking, “Hongbin? Can you hear me?”

He opens his eyes and blinks slowly, taking in the whiteness of the room and the sunlight that’s actually streaming in through the parted curtains; bright, happy sunshine that he feels like he hasn’t seen for days. Then he looks to the side and sees Jaehwan’s— older, present Jaehwan’s— terrified expression finally come into focus.

“Hey,” Hongbin says groggily. He lifts an arm, which feels oddly heavy, and brushes it against Jaehwan’s fingers. In response, Jaehwan’s lower lip wobbles and his eyes fill to the brim with shiny tears.

“Oh my god,” he breathes, dropping his head. Hongbin sees a few droplets fall onto Jaehwan’s shirt as his boyfriend’s shoulders shake and his fingers tremble against Hongbin’s cheeks. “Oh my god, Hongbin.”

“H-hey,” Hongbin says, startled. “W-what’s wrong? Jaehwan, why are you crying?”

“Because you slipped on a puddle of coffee and nearly cracked your skull open on the floor, you big dumb idiot,” Hakyeon’s voice says off to the side, and Hongbin’s eyes widen when he finally realizes that it’s not only Jaehwan in the room. Taekwoon, Hakyeon, Wonshik and Sanghyuk are all standing around his bed, expressions a mixture of exhaustion and pure relief. Hakyeon must’ve seen his stunned look and his fumbling touch to the bandage around his head, because he cracks a gentle smile and adds, “And you nearly scared the pants off us in the process too.”

“Y-you guys,” Hongbin stammers in shock. “Why are you here?”

“Oh, that’s a warm welcome,” Sanghyuk pretends to scoff, and Hakyeon shushes him without heat.

“We came to see you,” Taekwoon says, the same way someone might add  _obviously_ at the end.

“B-but aren’t you guys supposed to be at work, or something? Wonshik, aren’t you on vacation?”

“Did you seriously think I’d still be on vacation after getting a call at midnight with a hysterical Jaehwan in the emergency room on the other end, babbling something about you getting a concussion?” Wonshik asks incredulously.

“I wasn’t hysterical,” Jaehwan protests weakly. He finally raises his head, and there are tear tracks running down his face. Hongbin’s heart tugs at the sight. “I was just very very anxious.”

“That is an understatement and you know it,” Sanghyuk says bluntly. “Taekwoon had to call the ambulance because Jaehwan couldn’t stop crying.”

Hongbin bites his lip and clutches at Jaehwan’s hand; in turn, his boyfriend gives him a watery smile and strokes his hair comfortingly.

“It’s okay,” Jaehwan says softly, as though reading his mind. “You’re fine now, so that’s all that matters.”

“I’m sorry,” Hongbin whispers, lowering his gaze. “For worrying you. For worrying all of you, actually.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Jaehwan says at once, and the others nod. Hongbin feels the corners of his mouth twitch upwards slightly.

“Though I am happy to see you all,” he muses. “I’ve kinda missed seeing you guys.”  _Seeing how happy and silly we were back then made me realize just how much miss everything about us_ , he doesn’t elaborate, but he hopes the sentiment shows through.

“It has been a while since we got together,” Hakyeon admits. He rubs at his wrists with a sad look on his face. “I’ve missed it too, spending time with all of you.”

“Sappy,” Taekwoon mumbles, pinching Hakyeon’s neck, but Hongbin could see the warmth in his eyes. Wonshik’s eyes are suspiciously bright as Sanghyuk looks away, feigning casual unaffectedness. Hongbin clears his throat.

“Well, we’re all here now,” he offers, and smiles. “Let’s try and keep in touch a little more.”

Murmurs of agreement sound throughout the room, and Sanghyuk raises an eyebrow.

“It only took your cracked skull to finally summon us all back into the city,” he says cheekily, and Wonshik loops an arm around Sanghyuk’s neck, tutting at him.

“A tragic sacrifice,” Hongbin replies, rolling his eyes, and winces when it makes the back of his head throb as the others laugh at his joke. Jaehwan actually tuts when he immediately fusses with Hongbin’s pillow.

“Go out an get something to eat for lunch, you lot,” he sasses the others. “I’ll be here for him.”

“We’re not going to come back and find you playing the sexy nurse, are we?” Sanghyuk asks innocently, and Hakyeon and Wonshik both choke on their spit.

“Ugh,” Taekwoon says, and steers Sanghyuk pointedly out the door. Wonshik waves, telling Hongbin to rest, and Hakyeon promises to bring them takeout before making a point of fixing them with a very stern look.

“ _Don’t_  play sexy nurse when Binnie’s head is in a cast, Jaehwan,” he says, before spiriting away.

“Who does he think I am,” Jaehwan protests, and Hongbin chuckles, patting the back of Jaehwan’s hand comfortingly.

“If it makes you feel any better, I think you’re sexy with or without a nurse outfit on,” Hongbin offers, and Jaehwan stares at him in horror.

“You really did hit your head hard, didn’t you?”

“Hey!” Hongbin says, scowling, and Jaehwan breaks out into a grin.

“Kidding,” he soothes, drawing up a chair beside Hongbin’s bed. He rests his chin on the palm of his hand and gazes down at Hongbin thoughtfully.

“I feel like we have a lot of catching up to do,” Jaehwan says quietly. “It’s been so long since we properly talked.”

Hongbin’s heart patters in his chest as he nods, giddy. “Shall we relive the good old days from the beginning of VIXX?”

Jaehwan bursts out laughing. “Oh, god, the kind of shit we’d get up to back then,” he chuckles, rubbing his face in fond recollection. “We were just kids who wanted to sing and take over the world.”

“World domination,” Hongbin hums, grinning. He sinks down into the pillows, trying not to move his head too much.  “Sounds like my kind of thing.”

“Of course it would be,” Jaehwan chuckles, and there’s a soothing quality to the tone of his warm voice that’s drawing Hongbin further away from the land of the living. He sighs and looks over, blinking sleepily up at Jaehwan. Jaehwan smiles back at him and leans over to kiss him, moving his mouth slowly against Hongbin’s, like he’s savouring him. Hongbin makes a small noise in the back of his throat and kisses back as best he can as Jaehwan’s tongue slide against his, the velvety feeling of Jaehwan’s lips pressing warmly against his.

“You should rest,” he whispers when they part. “Don’t stress yourself.”

“But I wanna talk to you,” Hongbin mumbles. He feels like he’s fighting a losing battle already.

“Don’t worry,” Jaehwan soothes. “I’ll be here.”

The clock on the wall ticks, and Hongbin’s suddenly struck with the realization that he doesn’t really need to wait up anymore. Jaehwan is already with him, and Hongbin knows that when he wakes again, his boyfriend will still be by his side, just as he’s promised.

Jaehwan leans over and brushes his bangs away from his face before pulling the blanket up to his chin, humming a little melody as he does. Hongbin’s gaze follows his boyfriend as he steps away, momentarily unable to take his eyes off the man. Jaehwan looks so lovely right now, lean form bathed in an afternoon sun that makes the little dust particles floating through the room glitter like stars around him. Smiling, he sinks down into his pillow and closes his eyes. 

Tick.

Tick.

The hands of the clock overlap one another as 12pm arrives, and for a moment, everything feels like it’s suspended in between reality and dreams.

Hongbin sighs and turns over, and continues to rest on in his peaceful, dreamless sleep.

+

_End_

**Author's Note:**

> This was sadder than anticipated;;; I also got kind of nostalgic about my own friends while writing this lmao. Cherish your memories!! :3c
> 
> Thank you for taking the time to read!


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